Tales Of Skyrim - Redguarden
by mechafone
Summary: Derogan, a redguard, returns to Riften from a journey to learn more about the Blades' history only to find a young Argonian girl with surprising powers and a dark history. Together, they wander the countryside, making friends and enemies alike as Derogan makes some shocking discoveries about himself.
1. Chapter 1

The tavern was lively when Derogan stepped into the Bee And Barb. The usual crowd was out and about, drinking and talking aimlessly. The redguard smiled at the familiar scene. It had been two weeks since he had arrived in Riften, one week abroad to find the rumored Skyshadow Crypt, a place that, if the rumors were true, was the resting place of many, many old Blades. It was this place, in fact, that had brought the young man this far out into the colds of Skyrim. Riften wasn't so bad, though, especially considering this, his final stop. The Rift was a beautiful place, a far cry from the cold lands found almost everywhere else.

"Talen! Another round!" cried Vulwulf, an aged Nord man. As a warrior himself, Derogan had taken some interest in the Snow-Shods. While surely and set in his ways, Vulwulf was a stout, proud man, and invested in the town and his family. Most of his family, at least.

"I think you've had plenty, Vulwulf. Maybe you should head on home," replied Talen-Jei, one of the two proprietors of the inn. Talen was the first person Derogan officially met in Riften, a level-headed man who looked kept a look-out for his patrons, and could spot problems well before they surfaced.

Vulwulf set his mug down on the table where he sat. Derogan almost tensed at the animosity that suddenly sprung from the old man. "You stupid lizard! I said bring me some more drink, or I'll have your head on a pike!"

"Suit yourself," Talen said with a shrug. The Argonian was obviously used to this kind of treatment, which almost always ended up with a scoff and the situation fizzling out. This was one of those times. Vulwulf huffed and turned in his chair, and set his attention elsewhere. Derogan followed the Nord's gaze to the bar. He'd been so focused on Vulwulf and Talen that he hadn't seen the trio at the bar.

A tiny young Argonian girl sat between two mercenary types. The girl, who couldn't be older than 20, flirted with the two men. From Derogan's guess, they were both Imperial, older men in their 40's, and immensely enjoying the attention. Derogan was certain the young woman had no idea what she was getting into. Mercs had a very bad reputation with the beast races. If they could get her alone, they would certainly do horrible things to her to satisfy themselves, and then sell her for a good price. Slavery was forbidden in Skyrim, but laws were lax in other provinces.

"Her name is Mazuli." Derogan swiveled his gaze to find Talen beside his table. The questioning look in the redguard's eyes was enough to continue. "She arrived two days ago. She's been quite a handful, starts trouble whenever we get people passing through. You're lucky she's been distracted by these two before you got here."

"You're joking." Derogan laughed when Talen failed to confirm this. "Look at her, she's...she's five foot nothing, she's wearing a dress, she's unarmed."

"You haven't run into many mage types, have you?"

"Well sure, but-" Derogan's continued argument was interrupted by a sudden change in atmosphere. The man on Mazuli's left had grabbed her wrist, halfway extended and gripping a coin purse. The two continued to watch in silent trepidation as the argonian was hauled from her stool, both arms held in vice-like grips.

"You're a cheeky little lizard. Figured you weren't after my loins, pretty little thing like you probably thinks she's above such a crass notion. You're just after the hard-earned gold my partner and I got fair and square." Mazuli stared up into the eyes of the man that she tried to rob as he attempted to feed her something akin to intelligent speech. She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him.

"Oh, please release her. She promises, it will not have to worry about Mazuli ever bothering it again."

"I think I've seen enough," Derogan said as he got to his feet. "Thief or not-"

It all happened so fast. Derogan caught the sight of a tell-tale spell, a dark, nearly black shell of magica covering the young argonian's body, extending even to her clothes. The second, the mercenary on her right plunged a dagger into her back. And the third, the most surprising, Mazuli gripped the man she'd tried to steal from and tossed him across the room, landing him across a table where he collapsed with a broken neck. "Not nice," the tiny woman said, turning to her assailant. He took one look at her before he turned tail and ran for the door. A figure came into his view, a man in Colovian iron armor bearing a green sword and shield, bared in force. The mercenary drew his sword halfway out of it's hilt when he went dead cold and fell to the floor, amidst several of his teeth.

"By the Hist!" Talen exclaimed. "I haven't seen a shield bash like that in years!"

Derogan shook his shield arm out. The other man had been bigger than he, and had been wearing full steel armor. His arm was almost numb. "Well. Fool should've run for the other door, I'm sure Letrush could've given the man what-for as well. Right, Letrush?" The older man, who never seemed to leave his corner, spat.

"Another table! Talen, that's it. I want her out." Talen cringed as his lover, the other proprietor of the bar, spoke. "For good this time. I don't even want her back in Riften...even though it's not my call," she begrudgingly added.

Mazuli, still under her strange alteration spell, glowered at Keerava. The older Argonian shuddered. Mazuli's skin had gone almost charcoal black, but those deep blue eyes remained the same. It was an imposing look, despite how utterly cute she could be when not wearing the spell. Not a word was spoken between them for a moment. Finally, the young girl reached behind her and dislodged the dagger from her back, revealing it had not sunk into her flesh more than a half an inch. The blade clattered to the floor as she left.

"What..." Derogan murmured.

"Mage types," Talen told him. "Her spell is armor and enhanced strength. Those two didn't stand a chance. I'd wager she could easy stand against that shield of yours...not that I would ask you to put yourself in harm's way. I doubt we will see her again. At least until Keerava remembers that Mazuli attracts customers."

"Not likely," Keerava huffed. She glowered at her lover until he began to pick up the wreckage. There were a few moments of silence in the bar when it became apparent the redguard had left. "I'm almost sorry I get to miss what's about to happen," she chuckled.


	2. Chapter 2

Derogan stepped out into the afternoon sun. Despite the daylight hours, Riften seemed a little emptier than usual. Had he missed something exciting? He crossed the bridge heading out of town, following the few tell-tale marks of blood. The girl's wound hadn't been deep, but she was bleeding a bit. The drops seemed to mark the ground with every three to four steps. There were about eight of them, disappearing behind the front gates of the city.

"You'd better apologize," the guard outside told him when he noticed the redguard following the blood trail. "Never seen a lizard so angry."

"Argonian is the proper term, believe it or not," Derogan chided, earning him a shrug. The trail lead in a wide circle around the outside of the city's walls, then trailed towards the border gate to Morrowind. He'd followed it halfway there when the trail ended abruptly. He stooped, brushing some leaves across the ground. Why did the trail lead so far out and then suddenly stop? Had she burned her wound to cauterize it? Why hadn't she done that from the beginning? Why did she wait until she was all the way out here...?

"It follows us..."

Derogan snapped to attention at the whispered words. He was alone, at least it looked this way. The voice had come from far away, yet he heard it clearly. It was the argonian girl. "Why? What does it want?" He heard it again, this time very close. There were two voices, near and far. Some kind of illusion trick.

"Just curious, I suppose," he murmured, a hand on the hilt of his sword. He meant the girl no harm, but she was clearly more than able to take care of herself. If she wanted, she could easily harm him. "You're hurt, too."

"So noble," the voices chimed with a giggle. "Noble man wants to help and not take advantage of little girl. Not suspicious at all!"

"Yes, not suspicious, like taking advantage of two justly men just wishing to have a drink and enjoy their hard-earned coin."

"'Justly'?" the voices had become a single, angry intonation. "Even redguard cannot be so naive..."

Derogan watched the ground directly before him. The leaves faintly moved as the girl slipped closer. She had used magic to silence her movements and render herself invisible, but she could not camouflage or hide the leaves in stepping through them. "Those men would've had their drinks and moved on if you hadn't engaged them in conversation. They didn't get violent until you tried to steal from them."

"Men all the same," she argued. "Mazuli has not met a single man who has not tried to use her. She has always had to rely on herself and watch her back."

"Perhaps you've been running with the wrong crowd."

"And you wish to educate Mazuli?"

"No. I want to make sure that you're ok, Mazuli. I think something is wrong. Why didn't you use your Hist Skin to heal your wound?"

There was silence. Derogan could almost hear the argonian thinking. "Not it's business," she finally said, her breath billowing against the man's face.

He had but a second to act. He didn't know how, but he reached up and caught the girl's wrists, finally breaking the invisibility spell, a pair of daggers inches from his chest. Mazuli let out peals of laughter, her tail thrashing in the grass as she nearly stumbled forward, having been caught off guard. "You are very reflexive!" she observed.

"And you're a bluffer," Derogan mused, earning him a look of flirtatious confusion.

"Bluffer?" The two leaned fowards and backwards as the argonian girl playfully fought to sidle closer to him, her legs seeking his lap. "Mazuli does not bluff."

"Mazuli bluffs a lot. These daggers aren't even real."

The girl blinked in the afternoon sun, and twirled the daggers deftly between her fingers. "How you tell?"

Derogan's grip on her wrists loosened, and a small grin played on his face. "The sun. There's no light reflected on your 'blades'. What were you even expecting to do, stab me with your hands?"

Mazuli leaned closer to the man, sniffing delicately at his neck. "Would not be the first time," she whispered.

The redguard rolled his eyes and gently put some distance between the two of them. "Right. Now about your wound..."

So that's how it was going to be? Mazuli huffed, arms crossing over her chest, the daggers simply disappearing from her grip. "The wound is Mazuli's dress. New, too..." She twirled around slowly and gripped the lower portions of the crimson-stained fabric. She wore a flowing, multi-tiered two-toned dress, a dazzling black and white, but now it would need to be thrown away.

"I'm sure there's a reason why you haven't healed yourself yet, but...you can keep your secrets." Mazuli stayed still and patient as Derogan laid his hand upon the knife wound. She turned her head to watch as his hand began to glow white. A hot and soothing feeling shot into her back, almost alarmingly hot.

"Ahh...! Feels...hot. But good. Not your first time?"

He ignored the flirt in her question. "I spent several years training for different positions in Cyrodiil. Turns out that a paladin and a cleric both have healing requirements. Wasn't one of my stronger areas of expertise, but when you take the job seriously, one can make great use of healing hands."

Mazuli let out a quiet murmur of satisfaction as she turned, sliding her hands down her back over her previously located wound. Good as new. "Many thanks, red man."

"The name's Derogan," he replied, returning to his feet. He stood at least two heads taller than the girl on this level ground, minus the crimson feathers that stood on her head and neatly framed her face. "Well. Best of luck to you."

The argonian stared as the redguard trudged past her. Was he baiting her? Surely he didn't just heal her wound for free. He was headed into wilderness, towards the Jeralls. "Never," she whispered to herself. "Never, never."

For the next thirty minutes, Derogan ignored the non-sneaky lizard girl following him at a distance. He was a little too focused on the hills, the squat little valleys of land and leaves. He'd spent days out in this area looking for Skyshadow Temple and still had not found it. Surely he'd missed it? It was beginning to get dark, so he wouldn't be able to spend another day out here looking for the old temple. He'd scouted a bandit came nearby, up a hill and neatly hidden by a waterfall. A little action before turning in for the night would help him clear his mind.

Another ten minutes of walking, and he found the place. Mazuli had finally disappeared, perhaps lost interest or found something more intriguing. He had a nagging feeling that neither of these were the case, but right now his attention was on the two bandits he spied guarding the entrance. Both archers...this would be a little tricky. The two were engaged in conversation, and he was able to sneak close behind the bushes to catch a bit of what was being said.

"You think it was worth it?" the closer man was saying. "It's just an old hammer."

"Of course it was. Did you not see the shine on that beast? Coin like that could keep us fed for weeks! Who cares if a courier had to die for it? There's...I dunno, dozens of those weaklings running around Skyrim. A Septim a dozen. Just think: the boss is gone on business. We could take that hammer, sell it to the highest bidder and be halfway to Hammerfell before the elf comes back."

 _A hammer? A dead courier? An elf bandit leader? What else is there to find in Skyrim?_ Derogan thought with a roll of his eyes. He laid still for just a moment more, bracing himself to rush in. After a full minute's wait, he dashed out from the bushes full tilt. The two guards turned, unprepared, reaching for their bows. The redguard reached the first man and swung out his shield arm, striking the archer in the shins. The man fell at an odd angle with a blood-curdling scream of agony. The second archer, filled with terror and a will to live, managed to release an arrow, striking Derogan's sword arm. The aim was poor though, and bounced off the armor as neatly as the archer's head bounced off the ground.

With a quiet sigh of finality, Derogan turned to the still-suffering archer whose legs had buckled under his weight and snapped at the shins. Gravity had done it's part, as the hill the hideout was situated on had pulled the archer forward and onto his chest. He blubbered and groped at the ground in an attempt to crawl away. "Mercy...mercy!" he cried as Derogan approached him from the side. "Mercy!"

"Like you gave mercy to that courier?" The redguard kicked away the bow from the archer's reach. It wouldn't be of much use at that point, but better to be safe. "The delivery man simply doing his job, never to go home to his family and friends?"

"I...I swear, I...I'm not even important around here, I..." the man gasped, drawing in pained breathes. "I just do what the high elf tells me. He makes these decisions!"

"And you follow them. Like a rat."

"I-"

The man was suddenly silenced. An arrow sank into the back of his head. Derogan turned. The arrow was tilted, having been fired at an angle. He had but a single glance of a woman standing atop of the hideout, over the waterfall, with an arrow aimed at his face. It released. Time seemed to slow, even stop, as the arrow seemed to take forever to reach him. It even seemed to simply stop moving. Suddenly, the arrow shot off in another direction until the tip came to a stop at Mazuli's palm at the bottom of the hill. She turned her hand, as did the arrow magically suspended in air, and returned to it's sender, sinking into the woman archer's forehead. Her body fell lifelessly into the water below and disappeared down the falls.

Derogan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Mazuli stood still at the bottom of the hill, her hands on her hips. "A third," he said breathlessly. "Hadn't...hadn't thought there was a third."

"Obviously."

"Thanks..." Derogan sighed, and rubbed at his temple. His life had flashed through his eyes just then. All about to end right here because he'd gotten sanctimonious. It was an embarrassment. "I'm..." At a loss for words, he gestured to the hidden door at the top of the hill. "Gonna go in...kill some...stuff." Mazuli nodded her head patiently. "Uh...do...do you wanna come?"

"It is a date."


	3. Chapter 3

The cave was damp, and dark. A couple traps near the entrance, a bone chime tether, and a bear trap further on down the narrow entrance way. Maybe it was years of experience dealing with bandits and highwaymen, but it seemed sloppy. Derogan snuck closer to the two sleeping bandits, Mazuli at his side. It had been a bit awkward sneaking in, as the redguard still felt a bit embarrassed at his near-death experience. As the two rounded the corner, they came upon a peaceful scene that belied something more sinister. Two bandits slept in their bed rolls next to a smouldering fire. Apparently the three outside had been standing guard while the other shift slept.

"So. Hunt begins," Mazuli whispered. She crept past Derogan, her bare clawed feet barely making a sound on the ground. Had she cast Muffle upon herself when he hadn't been paying attention? Well, he had almost been killed moments before, it shouldn't have been surprising. She positioned herself about twenty feet away from the closest bandit, an imperial by the looks of him. Mazuli reached for the ground, arcane magic flowing from her arm and into the ground. She raised her arm slowly, ground forming in a ball suspended in the air. More dirt and rock raised to join the growing sphere, adding to its density.

Talented as she was, Mazuli had still not achieved silent spell casting. Her spell made enough noise to rouse the man from his sleep. "What the-" The bandit had barely gotten to his feet when Mazuli released her spell. The dense ball of earth shot into the man's chest and propelled him to the rock wall behind him. He slid to the ground, blood dribbling lifelessly from his lips. The other bandit wasted no time in drawing his sword and running for the girl when a chunk of ice was shot at his feet. The tiny icicle exploded outward, expanding and freezing around his legs. Mazuli whipped around to see remnants from Derogan's spell wisping away from his hand.

"Aaaargh! You...I'll kill you!" the man cried in pain, pulling himself free from the ice. The cold crackled pleasantly around his frozen limbs as he was barely able to step forward.

Mazuli smiled, hands on her hips as she looked the redguard's work over. "Interesting. You freeze legs, legs not working anymore. Creative."

The girl stepped toward the bandit, but Derogan signaled for her to wait. "I'm here about a hammer." Mazuli eyed the redguard incredulously.

The angry and in pain nord bent over, rubbing at his numb thighs. The fur armor he wore did nothing to help, slack as it was in protection. "Go back to your desert and burn, you filthy redguard!"

Derogan smiled and raised his hand, cool wisps of ice crackling in his palm. "Do you want to know what happens when I hit your legs again with this spell? Not even a nord recovers from frostbite easily."

The nord bandit growled with frustration, eyeing Derogan's cold hand. He was a proud nord, and would certainly die in battle, but not over some stupid hammer. "The Sixth House Bell Hammer." Derogan's eyes widened at the name. "It's in the secret room with the pet." He pointed to the wall behind him, where a barely noticeable chain handle could be seen. Mazuli hummed playfully and skipped over past the man and tugged on the chain without even inspecting it. A switch could be heard turning somewhere in the rock, and a door slowly opened in the wall, revealing the secret room the bandit had mentioned.

Mazuli smiled happily and turned her head to look at the area slightly uphill, where she could see a sleeping area, which was littered with skulls. She let out a quiet sigh as she noticed a dead body at the top, a plain-clothed man. The courier? "Oh. You sleep well with the dead," she mused to the bandit, earning her a scoff. The girl approached the courier and stooped to rummage through his pockets until she found a note and read it quietly. After a moment she turned to Derogan. "The hammer was being delivered to museum, in Solitude. Old relic, maybe?"

"Yes. It dates back over two hundred years ago. Some scholars thought the hammers were used by the Dwemer, something about tonal magic," Derogan said, then approached the bandit with his sword raised. "Now let's go find the hammer. You first, and do watch your step."

The nord sneered and turned, limping slowly into the secret room. He paused at the entrance, peering inside. "Oh...yeah..."

"Problem?" Derogan pushed the tip of his blade firmly against the man's back.

"...Shit." The nord sighed, barely noticing the blade, and continued further into the room. Derogan followed him slowly, his nose upturned at the smell of old blood, cached on all the walls. To his left he caught sight of what the nord man seemed to despair of. The hammer was indeed sitting on the bottom cubby of a shelf tucked against the wall, but there was another body here, struck with several arrows. The wall behind him was littered with more arrows that had apparently failed to hit him. The poor fellow had died being used as target practice.

"The 'pet', I assume?" Derogan spat more than said. Mazuli followed inside, leaving the redguard a wide berth. She could taste his fury in the stale air. She knelt at the body's side, dipping her nose into her sleeve to mask the smell.

The nord man turned to face Derogan, arms held out at his side in an apathetic pose. "I don't care what you think of me, redguard. I lived my life the way I wanted to and I have no regrets. We're already in a torture room, so do your worst!"

Derogan obliged. He dropped his sword and began pelting the nord with the same icicle seed spells he'd used on his legs before, only this time aimed at his chest. The bandit screamed for a moment before silencing, his legs wobbling a moment before Derogan stepped forward, pulling his shield off his back and smashed the torso into several pieces with a single back-handed motion. Red bits of ice flew against the wall, landing in a neat pile.

Mazuli waited and watched quietly as the redguard composed himself. He brushed off his shield and gathered his sword before turning to the argonian, who stood and offered him a small bit of parchment, taken from the body's pockets. "Must teach her that one," she said with a hint of derision. She left him to the note and stepped over the corpse to inspect the hammer.

 **Husband, please be careful on the road towards Morrowind. The path has not been safe, bandits and the like may be prowling the area. Please return soon, I cannot run Heartwood without you. Return to me safely, and give my best to the merchants near the border.**

Derogan sighed as he read the letter several times. Heartwood...Heartwood Mill? A few miles to the west, if he wasn't mistaken, around Lake Honrich. He'd passed by it a few weeks ago. A nice quiet place. He hadn't met the owners. "I bet she doesn't even know," he mused.

"Mazuli knows something!" the girl chimed, turning to her new companion with the big hammer in her arms. "Mazuli _really_ likes this hammer!" Derogan frowned at her carefree attitude, but, knowing how futile it was to chide her, simply laid his eyes on the old weapon. She held it out for him, which he took. He ran his hands over the metal head, and felt the long grip, giving it a good squeeze and tilting the hammer back and forth vertically in front of him.

"Good grip, still sturdy, but it belongs in a museum." Derogan sighed and pulled out a sash from his armor, hidden in his armor for situations like these. He liked to treasure hunt when there was nothing else to do. That did not happen often anymore. He tied it tight around his chest and under his arm, then set the hammer on his back. It was a firm fit, but he'd need to see Balimund if he wanted to travel across Skyrim with it.

Looking up from his work, Mazuli stood now at the entryway of the secret room, smiling brightly, her hands clasped at her stomach, lightly swaying side to side without a care in the world. "So, we travel to Solitude?"

This put a hitch in the redguard's breath. While putting the makeshift sling for the hammer together, he'd put together a plan. He would return to Riften, get Balimund to make him a proper hammer rest, then travel west to tell the mill wife of her husband's fate, and go from there. This plan had not included Mazuli. Just how far did this girl think she was going to follow him? "Uhh...we? Is that a thing now?"

"Is it not?" she said innocently.

"...I don't know," he told her, reaching idly to tug at the sash around his chest. "You saved my life and helped me clear this place and recover a relic. It was fun and all, but I'm really not the entertaining type. After your actions, I owe you, but that doesn't mean you're obligated to follow me until I repay that debt."

"You entertain plenty. You owe nothing. Mazuli followed, Mazuli chose to save you. She did not choose to burden you. Let Mazuli follow, she wants to see Skyrim, never been to Solitude. Perhaps horse ride in carriage?"

Derogan snorted at the last suggestion. Oh, how wrong she was. "I don't know if you'd like to follow me if you're looking to ride the carriage all the way to Solitude. I'm traveling on foot, and I'm going to let the people at the mill know what happened to their man here. It's going to be a long walk. Are you sure you want to come with me?"

Mazuli pouted and folded her arms over her chest. "Yes. You intend to leave Mazuli behind and..." she scoffed. "Force her to entertain herself, alone again?"

"You could always go back to the Bee and Barb and see if Keerava would let you back in so you can mooch off adventurers like me," he shot back with a grin.

"Not 'like' you," she said, reaching over to take his arm in hers, leading him out. "Just you."

Derogan sighed, a little uncomfortable with the attention. The little argonian girl was adorable, but she was also dangerous, sneaky, under-handed and more than a little violent and disturbing. What would happen if he got on her bad side? Still, he still had quite a few tricks up his sleeve, and he was already privy to one of her weaknesses. For whatever reasons there were, at least for now, she didn't seem able to heal herself. He silently chided himself as he allowed himself to be lead outside. He was not about to think up ways on how to injure his comrade if he needed to. For now, he didn't.

Derogan had initially intended to spend the night in Broken Helm Hollow, but seeing as it was filled with death and decay, he insisted the two return to Riften. The sky had turned a brilliant crimson red by the time they returned. The locals were a bit leery with Mazuli in town, but having promised to behave, sat alone on a bench, content to simply watch Derogan negotiate with Balimund over a hammer sling. Three hours later and well into the evening, the sling was complete. It didn't matter that it wouldn't last more than a few weeks, as the hammer wouldn't be in Derogan's possession for more than a few days, at best.

"Well," the redguard said as he approached Mazuli, who had sat stock still for nearly three hours. He was thoroughly impressed. "Seeing as it's too late to leave Riften tonight, we'll get a couple of rooms."

Mazuli frowned, clearly agitated from all the sitting she'd done. "You joke. Bee and Barb will not accept Mazuli."

In fact, the Bee and Barb wouldn't even open their doors, not even for Derogan. The two stood outside, the city empty save for the guards making their rounds. There wasn't a single instant that Mazuli's presence was not under scrutiny. Next, they tried the Bunkhouse. The owner laughed in their faces. "You're joking, right? Even I have a reputation to manage. Why don't you try that ratway? More her style." The doors slammed in their faces, leaving Mazuli's face resembling the crimson feathers on her head.

The thieves den? It wasn't his first choice. Or his second. It was underground, the sewers. That pretty dress...well, it was already mostly ruined anyway. Derogan held out a hand in the direction of the walkway that lead to the lower levels of the city, but the girl held her nose up in contempt. "Mazuli not need Riften. Rat's nest. Rat's nest!" she shouted to no one in particular, and stormed towards the gates leading out. "Mazuli sleeps in stables. Smells better!"

Outside, Derogan made his way slowly to the stables. Two of the horses slept peacefully in their stalls, while a third waited patiently just outside, snacking on the oats left in the bucket on the wall. He set the hammer, sword and shield up in the rafters, then climbed down and stepped into the middle, empty stall. Mazuli sat cross-legged, two feet from a generous pile of manure. The whole place smelled of horse and shit. He wasn't sure if the ratway compared, but as he hadn't been down there yet, there was no way to tell.

Mazuli glared up at Derogan, and quickly rubbed at her face, lest he see the emotion she'd allowed to spill out. "Go back," she said, waving him off. "Sleep in Bee and Barb. They take your money, not me. Mazuli watches your things. Come get her in the morning."

 _Me, she says. So she's capable of using personal pronouns when she's upset._ Derogan kept this observation to himself as he stood there, debating what to do.

Mazuli crossed her arms over her chest and looked away self consciously. The redguard sighed inwardly and took a good long step to avoid the dung and sat beside her, mirroring her position, eyes outward. After a few good moments of silence, he felt her body leaning against his. There were no words between them as they sat through the night, huddled in a stinky, cold stable. Mazuli slept soundly and much harder than she had in years.


	4. Chapter 4

Mazuli awoke to the light of the morning sun. She stretched out in a sitting position, limbs flexing, and she yawned loudly before bringing all five extremities to rest. She let out a groan as her right ankle squished down into the pile of poop in the center of the stable, bare foot and all. She had slept so soundly next to Derogan that she'd forgotten her choice of rest. Several khajiit at their camp nearby watched as the argonian crawled out of the stall, grumbling angrily and gathering her dress in her arms. She looked absolutely horrible, cached in mud, and her entire foot ankle-deep in horse manure.

The river was much too cold for a swim, so Mazuli had to settle for scrubbing her foot knee-deep in the water. By the time she her claws were clean, her feet were numb and her legs shook. She took a few steps up onto the bank, feeling miserable and cold, when she saw Derogan approach. "T-took y-your time!" she hissed, stamping her feet on the ground, though it did little to warm her up.

"Sorry...I was a little busy getting you something this morning." Derogan presented the irate girl with what looked like some kind of uniform. Unfamiliar with Cyrodiilic clothing, she grasped the shoulders and let it trail downwards. It was lined with thick fur, especially around the throat and sleeves. It actually came in four pieces, a torso and pants, and matching boots and a fur hat. Mazuli stared at the light brown cloth of the torso, held together by a bright orange sash. It was a far cry from the dainty dress she now wore, but Mazuli didn't care. She promptly ripped the dress from her body and took the new clothing with a squeal. Derogan stared in shock for a brief moment and quickly turned around to see the khajiit caravan watching in amusement.

Derogan turned very slowly when his shoulder was tapped. Half expecting her to be naked still, he was relieved to see that she was at least wearing the top and the pants. He looked her up and down as her instructed with a gesture, smiling cheekily. She stood in her bare feet still, the boots stacked with the fur hat. "No shoes, huh?"

Mazuli made a face and wiggled the claws that were her toes. "Boots are nice, but not Saxhleel boots. Keep claws in view, cushion the calves and shins. Hat is nice, but..." she gestured to the sharp horns adoring her eyebrows. "Mustn't ruin clothes. You keep them. Hat would look good on you."

The redguard chuckled and ran a hand over his low haircut, feeling along the fist-sized bun at the back. "No, not really my style." Mazuli watched as he gathered the boots and hat and set them on one of the benches overlooking the lake. "I'm sure someone will be happy to find free stuff." He turned to find his new comrade standing before him, hands clasped at her back, looking almost shy.

"Thank you."

"No problem. I had some coin saved up, and your dress needed replacing."

"Not what she meant. Thank you, for last night. You kept Mazuli very warm."

"Oh." Feeling a little hot under the collar, Derogan cleared his throat and made sure the khajiit nearby were minding their own business. "Well of course. I didn't think it was right, you sleeping alone outside. Couldn't just leave you there."

Satisfied, Mazuli nodded and turned to face Goldenglow Estate. Having made sure he was not being watched by feline eyes, Derogan took this opportunity to look Mazuli over. The fur clothing was a tighter fit than her loose, flowing dress. She was very thin and tiny, and it made him think that she was probably younger than he first thought, either in her late or mid teens, far too young to act the way she did towards the opposite sex. Then again, he was a bit of a prude, so what did he know? And that's when he saw it - Mazuli's rump was in full view. He'd forgotten about her tail. She'd slid the pants under her cheeks so that her tail wouldn't be caught inside.

* * *

Twenty frustrating minutes later, the two were on the road to Ivarstead. It had been a bit embarrassing, whittling a hole in Mazuli's pants with his sword for her scaly tail while she sat bare-assed on the dock steps leading to the vacant Honeyside. Twice he had to make the hole bigger because the width of her tail at the base was rather thick. By the end, the poor leggings had taken a beating and would need to be replaced rather soon.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Mazuli nudged him to get his attention. "Derogan, Mazuli is curious. Wasn't a single redguard she's ever met that knows magic. Why not?"

Thankful for a subject other than her bare skin, he dove right in. "That's actually a pretty good question. Redguard culture is centered around the physical arts, a bit like the nords do. Magic is normally shunned, while the physical arts of warfare are given the utmost importance. Me?" he said when Mazuli inclined her head in his direction. "Well...I'm a bit out of the norm. When I was a boy, younger still than you, I watched the men and women in my village, day in and day out, practicing the same. Smith the same, train the same. No magic, no magic schools, no magical adventures. It was so...ordinary.

My parents lived in High Rock for a time and learned quite a bit about magic. They returned to Riverview and soon had me. They raised me to know magic like they did, though in secret. When I was old enough, they would send me to Taneth, a giant city that was located many miles away, to learn our more traditional ways. I would spend most of the year there, learning how to sail, how to fight, even a bit of the merchant's trade. During the summer I would return home, where I would brush up on my magic skills."

The argonian smiled, a genuine look of curiosity in her eyes. "What is Riverview like?"

"The redguards take pride in their architecture, even the smaller villages. The buildings in my home were constructed of polished marble, the roads cobbled stone. There's a bit of shade everwhere in town, as the palm trees we planted are plenty. Most homes are made of brick, maybe clay, a far cry from the crude stone of Skyrim."

"And Taneth?"

Derogan laughed and held a hand over his heart as he recalled the details. "Taneth is...massive. It has twisting, winding streets, many of the buildings are made of white stone, emblazoned with gold and scarlett colors. There are buildings with parlors, open rooms with thin curtains on all sides, tiny waterfalls dropping from the tops of buildings that flow into large fountains. There are narrow walkways through the city, winding their way up and down through the streets like a giant serpent. And the city has a giant harbor where hundreds of ships dock and sail from every single day."

Mazuli smiled happily. She could've easily listened to more, but something else was on her mind. "Hm...So Hammerfell does not like magic. You learn in secret...you learn healing from parents?"

"I picked up some basic scratch-healing techniques, but I didn't really study restoration until I left Hammerfell and travelled to Cyrodiil. Wasn't always safe on the roads, though…" Derogan trailed off. "The Great War was just petering out, leaving behind scars and making new ones. The Thalmor wasn't all that interested in sharing land space, and occupying Hammerfell seemed to be their next project after banning the worship of Talos."

"Stupid Thalmor," Mazuli agreed.

"...I was on the Black Road, returning to Hammerfell, when I heard the news. Couriers were spreading out and informing anyone that hadn't heard." Mazuli frowned as the look in her comrade's eyes darkened. "Many cities had been besieged by those damned elves. Riverview was one of them. My parents had been slaughtered and my home was destroyed. The cowards hit many of the smaller cities, the ones that lacked a proper army and couldn't defend themselves well. I've been wandering since."

"No...goals? No revenge?"

"I've been brought up with the knowledge that we as a people will have to face the Thalmor at one point or another. It's just...known. They have been my enemies before I was born, and they will be my enemy after I'm gone. There's no point in rushing to my death."

"What did you do?"

"I couldn't return home, the Thalmor were busy trying to make a point. I turned back around and headed for Bruma. Years ago, in Taneth, I'd read a book mentioning the Blades. They fought dragons and other beasts, and were considered one of the mightiest groups in Tamriel. After the dragons came and went, the Blades assigned themselves as protectors of the Emperor, and fought against...less obvious threats, the Thalmor included."

"I learned of Cloud Ruler Temple, the headquarters of the Blades, just a few miles north and nestled on Cyrodiil's side of the Jerrals. They were an ancient order and hadn't been heard of since the Great War. I wasn't sure what I would find, but if they were still around and could instruct me further, then I'd have a better chance against the Thalmor. And, hopefully, some powerful allies."

"And you find them?"

Derogan frowned and shook his head. "No. There was nothing there but a ruined temple and ghosts."

"Ghosts? You mean...metaphorical?"

"That would've been preferable. There were three of them, stuck in an infinite loop reliving their last moments alive, their home being ransacked by the Thalmor. I don't know how long they'd been stuck like that, but I was able to put them to rest. With no allies and no further leads, I was beginning to worry about myself. The Thalmor were spreading themselves out, looking for traitors, the ones responsible for disrupting their progress during the Great War. Ragnar himself was later tried for war crimes and executed. Nobody even knows what happened to his family after that."

Mazuli frowned unhappily. She apparently didn't approve of the possibility of her new friend being hunted. "Why the Thalmor look for you? No reason to…"

Derogan laughed humorlessly. "I'm a redguard, and worse than that, I was a young redguard, impressionable, and no doubt brought up to hate the Thalmor. Not that those are reasons they would kill someone, but if I met them at that point, I'm pretty sure I would've rushed to my death trying to avenge my family and my friends. I needed to keep a low profile, so I headed to Chorrol, mostly for it's defensive position, and it wasn't easily assailable. Once there, I put my all into training. It's where I learned of the paladin and cleric roles, their skills, fighting techniques, and that spell I healed your back with. I think I was at it for...ten years."

Mazuli looked down at her hands, idly counting on her fingers for a moment. "How old are you?" she finally asked, returning her gaze to him.

"Thirty one…"

"Hee. You are old. Mazuli is only seventeen," she said, smiling and clasping her hands behind her.

 _Seventeen?_ Derogan mused quietly. He'd thought she was at least twenty. In a sudden change of subject, Mazuli dashed close, then proceeded to encircle him, peering at his equipment. "What do you use? Must have ancient relics, yes?"

Derogan tried not to feel self-conscious as the girl trailed around him. "Not really." Mazuli stepped back as he made to show her his sword, a beautiful obsidian-handled sword. The blade was a bright jade green, serrated along the blade.

"...Pretty," she mused as she reached out to press her hand against the flat of the blade.

"It's a glass sword. Not the most sturdy of materials, to be honest, but that's why I use my shield more." He put his sword back to rest, and held his shield out for her. It, too, was glass, the steel infrastructure winding through the glass in ornate decorations. The face of the shield was faded and had quite a few scratches, while the sword looked brand new.

"Perhaps it is time for new shield?" Mazuli joked after inspecting the shield.

"It's been time to look for a new shield for a long time," he responded thoughtfully. "This shield has been with me for a quite a while."

"Help!"

The pair turned to see a woman running down the road towards them. She was dressed in rags, dirty and disheveled, and was bare foot. "Oh thank goodness! I've been wandering alone for so long," she said as she approached, stooping to catch her breath. "I thought I'd never see another soul again…"

Mazuli looked from the woman to Derogan, eyes narrowed. She did not trust this situation, but Derogan wanted to know what happened. "Easy does it. What happened? Where did you come from?"

"I was kidnapped by these bandits weeks ago. They locked me up in the towers near Mistwatch. I managed to pick the lock and slip out while the guard slept, but now I'm completely lost. Can you help me, please?"

Derogan took out his map, eyeing The Rift slowly. He hadn't heard of Mistwatch. "Well, Riften is back this way," he said, gesturing back the way he and Mazuli had come. "It's about three miles back. Do you need an escort?"

"Oh, thank you," the woman said happily, shaking her head. "But I should be fine now that you've shown me the way. But those bandits have to be stopped! They're at Mistwatch." She approached, and took the bit of charcoal that Derogan offered her, making a spot on the map some ten or twelve miles off. "If you can stop them, you'll be heroes! Thank you again, and farewell."

Mazuli watched her go for a moment, arms crossed. "Mazuli is not a hero," she told him with a sly smirk.

"Neither am I," he told her. "But I do enjoy a good bandit tussle."

"Let us go tussle some bandits, then."


	5. Chapter 5

Later that day, the pair arrived at Heartwood Mill. It was a small place, as Derogan remembered, nestled peacefully next to the river and surrounded by the Rift's perpetual autumn trees. A young nord boy approached them cautiously. "I hope you're not here to start trouble," he said. His quivering voice did not inspire confidence. "I'll fight you if I have to!"

"Easy son," Derogan said, hands up defensively. Mazuli eyed the boy with amusement, though she did find his boldness in the face of fear admirable. "We're not here to start trouble. Who runs this mill?"

"It's just me and my mother. My father is gone, we don't know what happened to him."

The redguard sighed inwardly. He was sure that this wasn't going to go over well, and now his fears were confirmed. "I see. Is your mother around, then?"

"Hey." The trio turned to see a middle-aged nord woman arroach. "I'm Grosta. What's your business here?"

"It's about your husband…"

Grosta cut in, suddenly impassioned and angry. "That good-for-nothing...he said he was going east towards the border of Morrowind to trade some of our grain to some folks at Broken Helm Hollow." Derogan sighed once more. Broken Helm Hollow was the name of the hideout where he and Mazuli had recovered the Sixth House Bell Hammer...and where they'd found the mill worker. "I waited and waited, and he never came back. Probably shacked up with some elven whore. Good riddance to him I say. If I only knew where he was, I'd sure give him a piece of my mind."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple-" Derogan began, but Mazuli snatched the letter from his sleeve and presented it to Grosta.

"What's that?" Grosta took the letter cautiously. As she opened it and read, her hands began to tremble. "Oh...th-this is the letter that I packed into his clothes so that he would find it later. I...why do you have this?"

"There were no grain traders at Broken Helm Hollow, ma'am, only bandits. He was murdered," Derogan told her.

"No, it can't be.." Grosta put her face in her hands.

"Papa was killed?!" the young boy cried.

"All this time, I was thinking he'd been unfaithful to me...I feel so stupid. I've been a fool, wasting my time sitting here helpless when I could have sent help sooner. Perhaps this is all my doing…"

"I'm sorry, Grosta," Derogan offered. Mazuli was silent, arms crossed and trying not to look bored.

Grosta composed herself, and briefly exchanged looks with her son, and embraced him. "What's done is done. Please, if there's ever anything we can do for you, we would be happy to help you in any way we can. Bringing me closure was kind of you."

"I knew it," the boy said to no-one in particular. "I knew my father was a hero and he didn't just run away."

"No, son, he didn't," Derogan told him sympathetically.

Grosta's son approached him and held out his hand. "Call me Gralnach, mister."

The two shook hands firmly. "I'm Derogan, my companion is Mazuli."

"Where are you two headed now?" Grosta asked.

"Mistwatch. We've heard tales of kidnapping, and we're going to investigate."

Grosta frowned. "You must be careful on the roads north. We've heard stories of bandits attacking travelers, merchants, and adventurers alike. Mistwatch is not the only place we've heard of causing trouble."

"We cause plenty of trouble to the troublemakers," Mazuli finally chimed in, cracking the knuckles of one hand.

Grosta made a noise in her throat, something Mazuli correctly identified as a scoff. "...Right. Well, again, if you need anything, let us know. For the time being, Gralnach and I need some time alone."

Derogan frowned at the change in tone. When he looked to Mazuli with a question in his eyes, she responded with a pointed glare, then silently took off on the path heading west. "Wait. What was that?" he asked when he'd caught up.

"Nord racism," she responded without looking back. "Grosta probably thinks Mazuli is no better than bandits, because she is Saxhleel!"

"Have you encountered it often since arriving here?"

Mazuli did not answer, continuing with her angry walk. After a moment, she began to slow, then finally turned her head to look at Derogan with a troubled face. "...Not really. Mazuli has been warned of it, but this is first time experiencing it. Just knew what it was. It...hurts. Mazuli is thief, and no hero, but to see racism for first time…"

Derogan sighed and rested a hand on Mazuli's shoulder. "Try not to take it so personally. There's a lot of tension in the province right now. With the civil war going on, there's been a lot of argument between the nords that call this place home. They're divided between welcoming outsiders, and getting rid of them. Ulfric Stormcloak has made things quite complicated."

The argonian frowned, but said nothing else. The pair trudged on for another hour, now heading north as the path began to slope downwards. They were facing the other side of the mountains now, and rocky valley stretched out for miles. They started down the path as they passed a bridge and found an imperial man in merchant's clothing slumped over in pain next to a ruined cart. "Are they gone?" he asked ambiguously. "Please help, I can pay you."

Derogan and his companion stopped, Mazuli inspecting the wreckage of the cart. "What happened here?"

"Bandits attacked and ransacked my cart. Can you help me?"

Mazuli did not like the looks of this. It could be a trap, Grosta had said that bandits were plentiful on the roads. "Perhaps you cannot afford our time," she told him callously and made to leave.

Derogan couldn't believe his ears, and apparently neither could the imperial. "Fine, leave me to die!" he cried after Mazuli, quite pitifully.

"How can we help?" Derogan offered calmly, despite his disbelief in his companion's actions.

Mazuli whirled around, glaring daggers at the older man. He returned her look before turning to the fallen merchant.

"My camp is nearby in the ruins of Nilheim. Get me there safely, and I'll make sure you're rewarded."

Derogan reached down to help the man up. "Name's Derogan. Don't worry, we'll help you."

"Telrav," the shorter man said, glancing sideways at the irate argonian. "You...sure it's ok?" he asked quietly.

"She's having a bit of a rough day," Derogan said as he patted Telrav's shoulder. "She'll get over it," he added loudly enough for her to hear. Mauli stared at him incredulously while he lead Telrav slowly across the bridge. This was not going to go over well, and damned if she wasn't going to rub it in his face when it fell through, so she followed.

"It's just across this bridge. We're getting close now," Telrav was saying as he lead the way. Indeed, there were ruins ahead, a clearing for a nice spot with tables and a small crafting area. Further beyond laid a single tower. "Wait here," he said to the pair, picking up speed again. "I'll be right back with your reward."

"Just a second," Derogan interrupted. "Perhaps you'd be willing to give us the reward right here."

Telrav and even Mazuli gave him a puzzled look.

"Surely you didn't think this would work, did you?" Telrav continued with his blank stare, but he seemed to be getting impatient. "Further north, perhaps a trap like this would've gone flawlessly. The air is too warm to keep the smell at bay. You've got dead bodies just laying around outside somewhere. The Rift was a poor choice. Plus, your clothes. Not a niche on them, nor a cut on your skin. The only thing you did right was gather a pair of mercenaries into your camp to make sure we got all the leeches in one go."

Mazuli grinned with pride. Her friend was not stupid after all! She watched as Telrav's confused gaze turned to one of disgust. "Looks like we've got another fool on our hands!" he called, signaling the other three from the clearing, two female nords and a male argonian, wearing fur armor, with their weapons drawn. She took action, the black-skinned armor spell activating. Derogan ran with sword and shield drawn at Telrav, who had drawn his bow and took a quick shot at Mazuli, then leapt back to avoid Derogan's sword swing. The redguard couldn't take his focus off of the archer, and he had good faith that Mazuli could take the other three easily.

The younger argonian leaned backwards as the arrow was shot at her. It hit her neck, though with the mage spell hardening her skin, it grazed off her. In the same motion she grabbed the first woman and spun around, flinging her as hard as she could into the argonian, causing blunt trauma on the woman and knocking the male out cold. The second woman came at Mazuli with a steel mace. Mazuli was just getting her balance back from the spin and took the mace on top of her head. She yelped and watched as one of her eyebrow horns fell to the ground. Without giving the woman a chance to strike again, she grabbed her mace-wielding wrist and pulled her off-balance, and with her other hand brutally punched the woman three times in the face. Mazuli let the woman fall limp. She did not get up again.

The argonian let out a sigh and touched her brow where the mace had hit her, whimpering pathetically at the missing spike. There was no bleeding, but she would certainly be sore for a while. Maybe Derogan could...wait. Suddenly remembering her partner, she ran up the hill towards the tower. Derogan must have chased the imperial that way.

"Boss! Boss!" Telrav shouted as he crossed the short bridge leading to the tower. He'd been able to evade the redguard, but the man was so persistent! He turned to call for his leader once more when a body bigger than his crashed into him. He screamed as he felt his bow arm wrenched in the wrong way, causing him to drop his weapon. He felt himself lifted into the air by way of his arm, dislocating his shoulder. Derogan gave the movement a bit of spin, and sent the archer tumbling down the ravine headfirst.

"What in Dagon's name is going on out here?!" Derogan turned to see a large figure stepping out from the tower doorway. The leader of this operation was apparently a male orc, decked out in full steel armor and bearing a steel greatsword. "Oh great. A merc. Well, you got this far and you've killed my men. Now I've gotta go out and get s'more." He strode casually towards Derogan and took an effortless swing at the redguard, who braced himself with his shield. The blow knocked Derogan backwards. "Oh? You're a solid fellow. How about you work for me?"

Derogan shook out his shield arm, his arm shaking slightly. "I don't take orders from murderers."

"One of those sanctimonious types, huh? You guys annoy me more than anyone else!" The orc ran at Derogan and spun into a downward chop, but changed direction of his swing to knock the redguard's shield outwards with a parry, then grabbed Derogan's sword arm, holding it away from him as he approached with a head-butt. Pain blinded the man for a moment. "You talk about protecting the innocent from the murderers and thieves, when you're just a killer yourself! Don't get all self-righteous just because you fancy yourself a knight!"

Derogan was dizzy, and his head was screaming in pain. If he didn't do something right now, it was all over. It had to be an effective move. The orc still held his sword arm captive, so he only had one chance to do this. He spun his sword arm behind his back, which closed the distance between the two, and spun around with his shield arm. The orc was not expecting a sudden move that brought them closer. The reverse shield bash caught him in the jaw, spilling blood and a few teeth. The orc cried out in pain and released Derogan. The redguard wasn't willing to let a chance like this escape. He spun his sword around behind the orc's legs and caught the area behind the knees where the armor was weak. His legs cut, the orc fell on his back. Derogan reverse slashed as he stepped on his enemy's chest, blade cutting through the orc's throat.

Mazuli approached quietly from behind as the redguard stood there, his head quieting to a dull ache, breath slowly coming to a still. "Derogan," she called. "Mazuli is sorry she did not trust you. Should've had more faith."

The redguard sighed and turned to his friend. "Mazuli...you ok?" he asked. He wasn't going to hold it against her for not trusting him. "Sorry I didn't let you in on my plan. I knew Telrav wasn't being honest. I think you saw the same signs I did. I just didn't want to give these guys a chance to rob and kill others."

When she caught sight of Derogan's head wound, tears began to fill Mazuli's eyes. She approached him, examining the blood dripping from his forehead. Derogan made a face. "What is it, what's wrong? I'll live."

"You...can heal, yes?" Derogan looked troubled as Mazuli laid her hands on his shoulders, that plaintive look in her eyes. Was she really worried that a wound like this could kill him? Well, if it would set her mind at ease. He closed his eyes and raised a hand to his wound. After a moment, a soft glow illumined the wound. Within three minutes, the wound was gone, skin sealed.

"Haven't you ever seen someone that can heal themselves?" He asked after he realized she still looked frightened for him. "You're argonian, you should-"

"Please," she interrupted. "If we travel together, you must not ask Mazuli about healing. It is required for us. No healing questions." Derogan frowned. This was an important matter, to him and to her. But he wasn't about to force her to reveal her secrets. Maybe she would, in time, if they were together long enough.

"All right, I won't ask about that anymore," he told her, and rested a hand on her shoulder, wondering if perhaps the touch would even be welcome. She smiled, but she seemed ready to get off the subject as she looked down at the orc.

"You were brave. Mazuli knew you could best him, is why she didn't jump in to save you."

Derogan, flabbergasted, turned to follow her gaze. "You didn't…!" He paused as he looked down the ravine where Telrav had fallen. Just over the edge of the bridge, some twenty feet below, was a gruesome sight. Four or five people laid down below, dead and rotting. Travellers, merchants...and Telrav. The redguard frowned and shook his head. "Thanks...for believing in me, Mazuli."

The two returned to the road, but this time turned south. After examining the position of the sun, the pair decided that it would be best to continue on to Ivarstead. It had been five hours since they'd left Riften, and a rest in a safe place sounded nice. Another hour later and they were within the outskirts of town, crossing the bridge, when Mazuli thought she saw something in the water. Before he could stop her, she'd stripped out of her clothes and dove in. "Stendarr's mercy, why does she do this to me?" he said to himself quietly as a guard began to approach from the small settlement.

"Hey, I appreciate a swim as much as the next argonian, but could you please put some clothes on her?" the guard said irately.

"Y...yes, will do," he told her as he rounded the bridge and waited for Mazuli to emerge. She was down for at least two minutes when she splashed to the surface, shivering.

"She found it!" she cried, holding up a water-soaked satchel and a shiny necklace.

"Fantastic, please put your clothes on before we get arrested," he told her, taking the things from her and shoving her fur clothing into her arms.

"Hm?" She casually looked at the Rift guard, who stood glaring at her, arms folded. "Perhaps nord woman is jealous."

"Mazuli, put your clothes on now!" Derogan hissed impatiently.

"We do have guard barracks here," the guard warned as Mazuli began the process of putting dry clothes over wet, scaly skin. "Don't let me catch you wandering around in the village naked like a hatchling!"

"Yes ma'am, it won't happen again," Derogan told her, at the same time having to cover Mazuli's mouth before she shot it off haphazardly. Satisfied, the guard wandered off to her patrols. The argonian wrestled herself from Derogan, glaring for just a second before she remembered what she'd seen in the water.

"Look. Found an apothecary in the water," she said, indicating the satchel in Derogan's grasp.

"Uh...you mean in the satchel? Like a collection of ingredients?" Derogan pulled the satchel open. Indeed, there was quite a collection inside.

"No, not just in satchel. Dead body, with that amulet."

"Oh. Right by the water, huh?" Derogan frowned, holding up the amulet for better light. "I'll bet someone is missing these things, and that person. We're already headed to the tavern here, let's go see what they know."


	6. Chapter 6

The tavern was warm, a far cry from the cold outside. The town of Ivarstead was small, and located directly at the base of the mountain that held the Seven Thousand Steps, a trail of worn stone steps that formed a trail up the mountain. It was the tallest mountain in all of Tamriel. It was at this time that Mazuli was very thankful she'd had the foresight to remove her clothes before jumping in the river.

"Welcome to the Vilemyr Inn!" a man called from behind the counter at the far end of the room. A warm fire pit lay between the two adventures and the inn, centered in the middle of the floor to keep everything comfortably warm and dry. Just beyond that were four chairs, also in the center of the room, facing each other. Mazuli sighed happily as she dashed off to take a seat, mounting a chair backwards so she could feel the heat of the pit on her face.

"Let me know if there's anything I can get you," the tavern owner told Derogan as the redguard approached.

"I'll be needing some food and drink for myself and my companion." He set down a bag of coin and counted out forty pieces. "And we'll take two rooms."

"Oh. Right away!" The owner smiled and fetched some fresh chicken and pheasant breasts and water skins, then counted out the coin, then slid five back. "There you go, sir. Didn't need it all."

Derogan nodded appreciatively. "Thank you. Now, I could use a bit of information. My companion came across a medallion in the water, next to a body and a satchel of apothecary supplies." He removed the necklace and held it out for the owner to see.

"Oh, that's…" the owner frowned as he examined the jewelry. "Oh no. There was only one apothecary in town, and I'm sure this is hers. Reyda...she disappeared about three months back, left her poor brother, Narfi, alone. He's been in a state ever since. They lost their parents a while back, and his sister going missing just...broke him. I told him that she would return some day soon, just to give him hope. This is terrible…"

Derogan nodded solemnly. "I knew this wasn't going to have a happy ending. I should at least return this necklace to Narfi. Can I trust this man not to get violent if he sees I have his sister's belongings?"

"Ahh don't worry about Narfi. Man's harmless. He might be a bit...off, but he's never hurt anybody. He lives alone in a broken house on the other side of the river, across from the mill."

"Thanks. I'll make sure Reyda's things are returned to Narfi." Derogan gathered the things he purchased into his carrying satchel and set them down in his room, and finally removed the hammer from his back. Carrying it for fifteen miles had been a decent workout for his shoulders. He left the room to find Mazuli still in her chair, and in the same position. With a grin he tapped her shoulders. "You know we rented some rooms? You can rest in a nice bed."

The argonian peered at him with a sleepy smile. "Why would Mazuli sleep in bed when there is nice fire? Now go away, you are interrupting nice warm nap. Mazuli will be here when you return."

* * *

The air was cold out behind the inn. The sloping river that separated the small village from Narfi's broken down house kept the area very cold with rushing winds caused by the strong currents of the tiny waterfalls that littered the area. It took Derogan a few moments to find a spot suitable to cross. With a place so isolated, the redguard wondered why the man decided to stay in this place. It was cold and wet, and lonely, too, he surmised.

When he set eyes on Narfi, he could hardly believe it. Narfi wore nothing but old, ragged clothes. He could've been wearing a burlap bag over his head and there wouldn't be much difference. The poor man didn't seem to mind the cold, though, most nords didn't. The house was barely that, the roof was gone and the walls were all open. Narfi was outside, not that it made much of a difference, quietly speaking to a little rag doll in his hands.

"I can't see you, Reyda! I can't find you! Why are you hiding? Hiding, hide, hide, hide! Don't make me sad!" Narfi's sudden outburst took Derogan by surprise. The beggar, suddenly aware he was not alone, turned to the redguard. "Reyda was here, then gone. Went to gather plants and never came home... nope, nope. Everyone looked and no one could find her. Wilhelm said she'll be back... told Narfi not to worry... Reyda will come back."

He's harmless, the owner says. Things just...broke him, Derogan told himself. He seemed harmless enough. The nord was clearly distraught, but passive as he was approached. "Narfi, I have something for you, and...a bit of bad news." Reyda's necklace shone in the sun as it was held out for the poor man.

"Reyda!" Narfi cried. He dropped the doll and grasped his sister's necklace. "You saw Reyda? Did you tell her Narfi cries? Did you tell her Narfi never said goodbye like mother and father?" The beggar was in tears at this point. His hands shook, creating little cascading movements in the chain 'round the necklace he clutched. "What news?" he asked.

"I…" Derogan began. He'd intended to tell Narfi the truth, to give him some cold hard comfort, but it would not be a kindness. He could feel his resolve failing with each breath he didn't take. "I'm afraid that Reyda...is still busy finding ingredients. She says she won't be long, and will be home soon…"

Narfi gasped, a picture of pure joy in the man's eyes. "Reyda comes home? Oh yes! You've made Narfi so happy! Narfi now waits for his sister until she comes home. Oh, if only she could be here now... At least Narfi has Reyda's Necklace... reminds Narfi of his sister. Thank you for giving this to Narfi."

After shoving an apothecary's satchel into Derogan's hands, Narfi continued to scuttle about the area, eventually retiring into the house. "Narfi's happy now. Maybe Narfi can sleep. Sleep all night. Sleep sleep sleep." The redguard watched him for a moment from the other side of the river, a horrible knot twisting at his insides. He'd never lied to someone about the death of someone they cared about, he'd never had to. It felt wrong and malicious, but this...this was for the best.

* * *

The inn was as warm and inviting as the first time he'd entered, but it was now missing something; a certain Argonian girl. Derogan stuck his head into each room, and found them all empty. A cordial glance at the barkeep told him all he needed to know. Wilhelm's nervous smile was not encouraging. "Easy does it," he uttered with hands raised in defense as the Redguard approached.

"Where is she?"

"She took off with her friends, didn't she tell you?"

"I'm the only friend she was traveling with. What friends?!"

Wilhelm swallowed hard. "They were Argonian. Three shady-lookin' types. They came in quiet as death and surrounded her while she slept. They called her name, 'Mazuli'. She looked up, and then...walked out with them without a word." The barkeep looked fearful as rage crossed Derogan's face. "I-I followed them at the door, peeped through the crack. They didn't go far, just down to the haunted barrow at the back of town!"

Derogan didn't have time to ask why the barrow was haunted. He didn't waste time asking where to find it. He'd seen it coming into town, that raised mound on the east side of town. He rushed inside, making his way around to the back to find the big iron doors. He slipped inside, into the old, dusty air of the tomb. He sped down the spiral staircase, entering an area holding the dead. Some were wrapped in thick burlap, others seemed to be standing in their alcoves, at peace. He followed the open tunnels to the right, and down some stairs, and past an open entryway leading down a long tunnel. It seemed that someone had been down this way, and recently, but a light from the other direction caught his attention.

In this lit room, Derogan found a recently killed Dunmer, and a large philter of liquid sitting on a table. He didn't know if it would be useful, but he grabbed it just in case. He was about to leave when something caught his eye on the small table, a journal. A quick skim through it told the Redguard that this Elf had been living here for some time, looking for some kind of key that would take him deeper into the tombs, though he had gone mad with his efforts and had come to believe himself a specter, protecting the tombs from would-be grave robbers. On a whim he pocketed the journal, and returned to the long hallway.

The walls in this area were carved, depicting ancient stories, but they were of no interest to Derogan. His friend had been taken, probably against her will. The Redguard's mind was a flurry of thoughts and worries. Why had those Argonians taken Mazuli, to here of all places? What did they expect to find, and why did they need her?

Derogan's descent into the tombs was a quiet one. His journey was uneventful, thanks to the Argonians making quick work of the draugr that were not sleeping. Many of them had been run through with small cuts and stabs, the work of daggers. Others had been utterly destroyed by magic, ice, fire and earth, Mazuli's calling card. There were few tracks around the bodies, offering the conclusion that the spelunkers were much stronger than the guardians of the crypt. There was little evidence of a struggle.

Finally, Derogan reached what looked like the final chamber. It opened up into a large room where many sarcophagi laid open and bare. Bones laid everywhere on the floor, broken skeleton guardians. Seven draugr were splayed out on the floor, their weapons nowhere to be found, perhaps thrown into the water surrounding the pedestals. There was another tunnel leading beyond the final level of the room. Derogan followed it slowly, creeping quietly as he heard a voice.

Peering into the chamber, he ducked and hid behind a large chest. He could make out four figures, all standing before a large wall. Mazuli sat, crouched in the center before the wall. It was her speaking, but there was another sound, a chanting, like the beating of drums. The wall itself seemed to be speaking, calling, not to Mazuli, but to Derogan, pulsing like the pounding of drums.

"HET NOK KOPRaaN DO HELA...FahDON Wah Pah SIVaas...aaR DO KaaN AAL REK SiiV UNahZaaL...PRaan KO FeyKRO DO HahNU." Derogan frowned as Mazuli chanted this slowly, over and over. The three Argonians, dressed in what appeared to be a mix of Dark Brotherhood and ebony armor, watched her impatience.

"Concentrate, damn it!" One said. "You will not disappoint us again!" Mazuli did not retort, or give him a sour face, as Derogan expected of her. Instead, she obediently continued to chant, though what they expected to happen, the Redguard had no clue. Instead, he listened to the chanting, and surprisingly , he found he was beginning to understand the words, as if they were slowly revealing themselves from a thick fog. The words on the wall seemed to be an epitaph.

"HET NOK KOPRaaN DO HELA..." _Here lies the body of Hela_ \- "...FahDON Wah Pah SIVaas..." _friend to all beasts_ \- "...aaR DO KaaN AAL REK SiiV UNahZaa..." _servant of Kyne, may she find eternal_ \- "...PRaan KO FeyKRO DO HahNU," _rest in the forest of dreams._

 _...Kaan_. The word swam to the surface of Derogan's mind like a hungry fish at the surface of a lake, bursting past the surface tension and exploding into the air, making itself known. "Kaan!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the chamber. The force of his declaration sent several items flying off the table to his left, as he'd been facing it. The Redguard didn't have time to wonder on this new development as all four figures in the room now turned their attention to him.

"Interloper!" one of the Argonians growled, brandishing his dagger.

"He speaks with the Voice, which is what Mazuli is meant to do. What does this mean?" another asked his comrades.

"There can never be two," the third Argonian said, this one female. "Mazuli will be the only Shouter."

"Derogan! You must run!" Mazuli shouted at her friend.

Derogan would not run. He didn't know what was going on or what had just happened to him, but what mattered to him was that Mazuli seemed to be here against her will. He stood and brandished his blade and shield. "I'm not going anywhere. Free Mazuli and leave."

"This tomb will be yours, fool." The two males ran to meet him, one running a wide circle around him to surround him. The one facing him struck with his dagger, easily blocked. At the same time, the other struck from behind, but easily blocked with a swipe of his shield. Their blows were weak, but certainly they weren't trying to simply stab him to death. He ducked and rolled away as the two attempted to strike at the same time, revealing hidden daggers in their previously empty hands. Dual wielders. In the dim light as he rolled away Derogan could see their blades shine with wetness: poison.

The Argonians approached as one, one stabbing from the left, the other slashing from the right. Derogan didn't bother blocking; he needed his hands free for this. He swerved away from the stab, then hooked his shield arm around the slashing extremity. He pulled with all his might, lifting the smaller combatant off his feet and slammed the Argonian down onto the floor with a sickening crack. The body hadn't landed when he heard the other male rushing him from behind. He swiped sideways in his crouched position, expecting his attacker to leap over the sword. His expectations were not deceived.

He rolled out of the way of the knife slashing at his shoulder and abandoned his shield, the free hand now readying a spell. As both combatants got to their feet, Derogan shot off an icicle seed at the Argonian's legs. It struck, eliciting a pained howl. A Nord might've been able to shake off the cold from a single shot, but Argonians were deathly weak to cold. The recipient's knees shook, his knife hand trembling for a moment before the Redguard's sword chopped it off, followed by his head.

The fight won, Derogan turned to the female guarding Mazuli. He retrieved his shield, breath slowly returning to normal from the brief excursion. "Take your losses...and leave. Mazuli stays with me."

The female Argonian, having watched with admiration for her adversary, smiled and shook her head. "You have taken care of Mazuli. Gereesha can tell that she likes you. And you have demonstrated great skill, but more than that - you can Shout. Are you Dragonborn?"

Derogan frowned. Dragonborn? That's what they called Martin Septim. He could Shout as well, or so the stories said. He certainly did Shout a few moments ago, but he'd never done it before and he didn't know how. "I don't know what that was. I don't know if I'm Dragonborn. I just know that you are in my way, and I don't like you kidnapping my friend. Now release her."

Mazuli still sat, hands wringing in her lap as she looked nervously from her new friend to Gereesha. Her captor turned to grin at her, a look most malicious. "You have spent time with him, but you did not tell him what you are?"

The younger Argonian whimpered out a sob. "Mazuli is...a tool. A tool for the Saxhleel. She cannot be anything more. She collects magic..."

The Redguard felt his blood boil. She was being used to learn and collect magic? That explained why she had so much knowledge and skill in different types of magicka, but..."I don't buy that, Mazuli. Just yesterday you were running free on your own. What happened to you? Since when do you let others take advantage of you?"

Mazuli hissed in anger, but she remained in her placid position. "Mazuli does not want to do what the Saxhleel tell her, but she does not have a choice! They-"

The young Argonian's explanation was cut short as Gereesha turned and back-handed her hard enough to knock her over. "Shut your mouth, girl! Outsiders do not need to know our secrets!" Derogan took a few steps closer, sword hand clenched tightly. "Especially outsiders that push their luck. Dragonborn or not, I will kill you." Gereesha turned, twirling an ivory-handled dagger in her hands. "I will not fall as easily as my brothers, Redguard."

There was no more need for words. Gereesha danced towards him, quite literally, her body spinning at high speed. Derogan approached with his shield held at chest level, lowering it slightly as the strike landed squarely in the center, not with the knife but with a kick. Her other foot planted squarely on the floor, she pushed with a mighty heave. The Redguard found himself flung off his feet. How? How could such a small, lithe form carry more power in her body than an Orc barbarian three times her size?

Derogan rolled backwards as he hit the floor, barely managing to avoid a slash aimed at his neck. The Argonian twirled, crouched low as she tried to trip his feet. A simple hop straight up let him avoid her leg, but he should have put distance between them as well, as her tail caught the back of his legs. He was swept onto his back, and, unprepared for the fall, felt the air escape his lungs. The female followed him down, knife aimed for his chest. Abandoning offense and defense, Derogan caught her hands as her body connected with his. Her legs hooked around his waist, powerful thighs hugging him closer as she put all her strength into plunging the dagger into his heart.

The Redguard proved stronger, but with her legs wrapped around him there was no chance of pushing her off, as there was no chance of her overpowering his arms. Derogan changed tactics, instead beginning to wrestle the dagger from her hands. He would succeed, if she let him. The Argonian regained her hold on the dagger and threw it to the floor, and loosened her hold on him, preparing to flee. As Derogan got to his feet, she caught him from behind in a full nelson, her legs wrapping around his left. "Mazuli!" she cried. "Kill him!"

Dergoan struggled against his captor, only realizing after a moment that Gereesha had donned the black skin spell to boost her strength. He stared in horror as his opponent's dagger rose slowly in the air, levitated by Mazuli's magic. "Mazuli, come on..." he grunted, still struggling to pull and twist his way out of Gereesha's steely grasp. "You can fight this...!"

Mazuli now stood, hand raised as she guided the blade to aim at her new friend. "I...I cannot disobey, Derogan..." Tears fell from her eyes as the blade aimed at his heart, the tip trembling in her magical grasp.

Mazuli was no longer in control, this Derogan could see. He wouldn't survive this if he couldn't defend himself, and he couldn't free himself from Gereesha with brute strength. He had only a brief moment to act. He built up magicka in his hands, and released a pair of icicle seed spells aimed at his own head. As expected, the magicka leaving his body did no harm to himself, but at such close proximity it left Gereesha in considerable pain, even with her ebonyflesh. It was enough of a disturbance that as the dagger flew towards Derogan, he managed to twist his position with his captor. The knife sunk deep into her back, it's trajectory hastened with intent to kill.

Gereesha's limbs slowly untwisted themselves from his body as she slid down onto the ground. The Redguard turned to her, panting heavily from their struggle. "Yo-you...fool," she whispered, blood dripping from her maw. "This was as...painless a death as pos-possible for you. Now you will never know peace." Mazuli cried out, and ran to Derogan, collapsing in his arms and weeping. "She will...be f-found."

The Argonian's last words dribbled from her mouth as loosely as the blood draining from her body, and she was silent. Derogan sighed as he held Mazuli's sobbing form. "Mazuli, are you hurt?"

It took a moment for the girl to respond, her shaking making it impossible to form a coherent thought. "Mazuli was not harmed. She just thought her life was over and that she'd killed her only friend. Derogan - " she paused to look up, her face full of fear. "- you will be hunted now. They will keep coming to take her back. You...you would be be better off without-"

"Hey. None of that. I'm not going to abandon you. No one deserves to be treated like a tool." Derogan stood and brought the girl to her feet, eyes scanning the large room, his gaze falling on the ancient Nordic wall. "I'm certainly not going to ask you to finish what you were doing here. I...I think you taught me what this thing says, and...what it can do."

A brief gaze around the room was all Mazuli needed. "I would like to leave now," she whispered. Derogan said nothing, and slowly lead her out of the dark tomb, back into the sunshine of the bright Ivarstead.


End file.
